


Masks

by ritualistically



Category: Borderlands (Video Games)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-27
Updated: 2017-03-27
Packaged: 2018-10-11 09:16:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 656
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10461354
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ritualistically/pseuds/ritualistically
Summary: Rhys doesn't look like much. Timothy hates him. Nakayama's expendable.





	

Rhys doesn't look like much. A scared little mouse in an expensive suit and a smirking mask he fashioned to look like Handsome Jack. But peel away the smooth cold professionalism and the flustered awkwardness, and you find a wolf underneath.

Their first night together, Jack's surprised to find bruises and teeth marks all over his body when the haze fades off the bathroom mirror. When you strip off his mask, Rhys is wild in a way that nearly gives Nisha a run for her money. At one point, Jack grapples for a handhold and instinctively slides a hand around his throat. He figures he's scared Rhys, but the crazy kid only smirks and eggs him on. Sometimes, he catches himself wondering what that cold, unyielding metal hand might feel like around his throat, but he never asks aloud.

Rhys is the one who brings guns into the equation. The kid's never fired one in his life, but he more than eagerly pushes the empty pistol into Jack's hands and guides it against his head. It's scary just how much he implicitly trusts Jack not to hurt him, considering how much Jack holds back when Rhys gives him his all. He looks right into Rhys' mismatched eyes and pulls the trigger.

Timothy hates him. Jack's long had fantasies of taking himself to bed, but he sees an expression on Timothy's face that he's never seen on his own in the mirror: cold, implacable, silent contempt. His doppelganger goes along with what he wants, rationalizing his actions into neat dollar amounts, but he never stays a minute longer than he has to, and never smiles. Jack's seen him smile and laugh when he's with the other contractors, but he'll never smile for Jack. That's something the multitrillionaire can't afford.

He finally manages to defrost Timothy over a bottle of bourbon on the anniversary of his Jacking up. It's supposed to be a lighthearted occasion, but Jack ends up holding a shitfaced Timothy while he sobs his eyes out over a homesickness Jack will never understand and a face Jack's already forgotten. They might be each other's spitting image, but they're nothing alike. The thought's unsettling. The doppelganger's too messed up to be left on his own, so Jack guides him into bed, spooning up behind Timothy and stroking his side until the poor bastard falls asleep. It's the first and last time Timothy lets down his guard around him.

Nakayama's expendable. A cheap lay he can toss out of an airlock at a moment's notice. That failsafe gives him the courage to ask for it. A fist in his hair, a strangling hand around his throat. Danger. He's disgusted by the way Nakayama fawns over him, laying the truth of his desire bare for all to see, worshipping the ground he walks on like he's some golden god. Worshipping the smiling mask even when Jack pretends to forget his name. But in R&D, Handsome Jack drops the mask, and Nakayama puts it on.

Sometimes, just sometimes, the scientist's act slips and through half-lidded eyes Jack sees a twinge of pain on his face, maybe even regret as he traces the bruises left on Jack's perfect skin. He could swear Nakayama loves even this ugly naked side of him. It's humiliating. Addicting. And thankfully never anything more than a moment's slipup before that hand tightens around his throat, cutting off Jack's air and sending him into a tailspin.

Jack lets himself stumble one night. Instead of dressing and rushing out of the lab, he allows Nakayama to hold him and gently stroke his hair. _Allows_ it. It's not something he wanted. Feeling foolish and weak, he lies there with his head in the scientist's lap and stares at the ceiling. He can't bring himself to look at Nakayama and his stupid comb over, but the fingers in his hair are soothing, and he manages to fall asleep.


End file.
